Redlands editor 'goes to jail' for Redlands Animal Shelter benefit

My vet, Kathy Blanchard, asked me a couple of weeks ago if I would volunteer to be arrested and held at the Redlands Animal Shelter. I would have to raise my own bail money, all of which would go toward the shelter's spay and neuter expenses.

When you adopt a shelter pet that is not altered, the shelter arranges an appointment for the procedure and foots part of the bill.

No animal becomes a pet unaltered.

Unaltered animals are the source of the shelter's wards in the first place.

Currently the shelter has 55 dogs and 65 cats looking for homes. I see the population numbers every week. This is low for them. In spring the cat population is double this.

My bail was set at $100, but I wanted to be the hot shot that showed up with $500. I have a whole community as my audience, and I guessed I could find 50 people to give me 10 bucks.

I put out the word on Facebook first, "Anyone willing to help spring me?"

Right away Realtor Rhonda Stanton commented, "Put me down."

Sanbag spokesman Tim Watkins responded, "Not a good phrase to use at the shelter."

Monty Montano, former reference librarian at the A.K. Smiley, said, "Have you thought this through? They won't let you go until you're neutered."

And my campaign was afoot, for both money and comedy, apparently.

This is a sentimental project for me.

In 1997 the Mombergers four moved back to Redlands from about a decade in Boulder, Colo., because of the JonBenet Ramsey murder. I salved my panic by deciding the murder wouldn't have happened if the Ramseys had had a big dog. I set out to get me one.

That's how I ended up in the shelter my first time (the first of six times I would walk out of there with a new pet).

It's relevant to point out here that I don't like dogs.

I put in my order at the front desk. I wanted a dog that didn't beg, jump on people, sniff crotches, lick or stink.

They had the grace not to tell me I really wanted a cat.

The lady smiled and bade me follow. There was a puppy just in. I formed a vision.

She led me past a row of little concrete cells with bad dogs in them, barking at me and jumping up on the bars. At the end I could see a darling little fuzzy dog sitting politely, looking longingly.

I didn't want it.

This dog, in sitting position, was almost to my thighs. I had a vision of my new dog squirming in my hand.

I suddenly had a new criterion, so I thought I would pat its head and say `good pup' and go. The lady said, "I'll take him out so you can spend some time with him in the play yard."

I wanted to say, `You don't need to open the kennel.'

She fumbled with the keys at the play yard gate. I stood behind her waiting for this to be over so I could go find a hand puppy. The big puppy was sitting calmly next to me.

He scooted closer to my leg, as if he were sneaking. Then he leaned his body until his shoulder and head were against my knee. I was softening.

Then, without lifting his head, he looked up at me. The only things he moved were his eyebrows and my cold heart.

He's an Akita-Husky mix. We named him Lamont, and he's the best family dog there ever was. He doesn't jump, lick, beg, sniff crotches or smell like a dog. He's loyal and smart and never breaks the rules.

So I jumped at the opportunity to raise money for the shelter. Because I am grateful.

I was at about $200 at 12:10 p.m. Thursday when a Citizen Volunteer Patrol officer in uniform showed up to take me into custody.

I expected to be cuffed, and had reporter Kristina Hernandez ready with a video camera, but it was more of an escorting. Apparently they used cuffs the first year and that went badly.

We got in the police vehicle, turned on the siren lights and we were off.

At the shelter I was given my impound papers. They indicated I was taken from the Facts as a stray in the field, female, 21 years old. Flatterers.

They took my mug shot, I paid my bail and someone handed me a hot dog. I sat with another inmate, who told me the story of how she got her dog. Her teenage son was at a park when a man with a little boy in his car pulled up, shoved a dog out of his car and drove off.

Kim Salt at the shelter explained how the staff train and get to know the animals there, which helps them match them with owners. She indicated our adjoining cage, full of Chihuahuas, and told me the lot was headed to Canada.

Ron O'Neil, a park ranger and longtime friend of mine, came by to say hello.

"It's about time they locked you up," he said.

Redlands Mayor Pete Aguilar was being booked as I was leaving. He had driven himself in.

The shelter's goal with this project was $2,000. There were five of us who participated.

The total haul was $3,568.

I'm still collecting bail money toward my goal of $500. If you want to donate in honor or in memory of someone, I will indicate that in my sponsor list.